Fading Away
by SimonDoesFanfiction
Summary: After the events of Kirby Star Allies, things seem to be returning to normal in Dream Land. But beneath the surface, a plot is hatched to dismantle their great hero once and for all. Part 2 in a series I'm doing.
1. The Return

**_Welcome to the second entry in my Kirby saga of stories. Technically, this is the third one to be written, but chronologically it comes second after_ Left Alon _e and before_ Trapped Together _. Check those out if you wish._**

 ** _This story is called_ Fading Away _(you'll see why later), and will be, like my other stories so far, rather dark and experimental._**

 ** _Here are some review replies from the last chapter of the previous story,_ Left Alone**

 _Bunnyrabbit202 **Glad you're excited! Hope it was worth the wait for you and for everyone.**_

 ** _Be sure to review and follow this story. It's highly appreciated on my end!_**

 ** _EDIT (Aug 2019): I'm thinking of creating a fan comic or animation adaptation of this series at some point in the future. This fanfic will be taking place after the events of the aforementioned planned comic/animation. To accommodate this, the previous two entries in this series, whilst having helped establish an initial framework for the story, will no longer be considered canon._**

 ** _In addition, the first half of this chapter (a prologue of sorts, if you will) has been significantly modified to accommodate the lore currently in-progress in the outline script I'm writing. Wish me luck!_**

The Jambastion Cult hadn't always intended to commence the destruction of the universe. After all, even the most tyrannical, crazed, and/or evil entities, people, and ideologies never view themselves as the villain.

Once upon a time, long, long, _long_ ago, their members were at the helm of a prosperous society. A group of beings bestowed with the power of a strange, divine, yet delicate art; magic users, for brevity's sake. They had aligned with a group of great scientific minds, and with their combination of the logical and illogical, it seemed ridiculous to suggest that their harmony would ever come to an end.

In hindsight, such ideas should have been considered inevitable. The universe is, if anything, unpredictable yet predictable. Two allies, each of such inflated arrogance, couldn't have stayed allies for long. And alas, they didn't.

The magic users — those that had not been destroyed by their new blood rivals — were split into hundreds of groups spread across the galaxies, all in exile. The leader of one of these groups, led by one known as Hyness, descended so far into the darkness and despair and lust for vengeance that they grew susceptible to a great and ancient evil.

This entity was known simply as Void, it's origins more sparse and disputed than that of the group from which Hyness originated. Whether Void was once a mortal being ascended into something greater, or simply just a cosmic entity existing since Time Immemorial, one couldn't be sure. Void exhibited properties of both; they were the embodiment of all that was dark in the universe, but with that came a distinctly mortal-esque personality.

They charmed, enticed, and seduced Hyness, deceiving him with tales of a promised land and of a cleansed universe of which the crimes of his oppressors would at long last be atoned. As such, based on a remote moon within the Terminus Nebula, Hyness would build the Jambastion Cult, dedicated to the worship and eventual revival of their great lord and savior, the almighty, all-poweful Void.

Of course, it was a sham. A plot with ulterior motives. Void had _already_ returned on several occasions in the past, information that they crucially had omitted from their whisperings to the ever-weakening Hyness.

At one point, they had even managed to crush the armies of the lightners who dared oppose their all-encompassing power. It had been a spectacular and terrifying victory. The reward was that they reigned supreme, unchallenged. _They_ were the ones in control. Whilst their minions and lackeys craved power and vengeance, the selfish fools, Void craved dominance. And, in that far more ancient time, they had their dominance.

...But not for long. They were too distracted by their victories to notice one small oversight.

Descendants of a group simply known as the ancients, and members of a new group calling itself the Galactic Soldier Army, had put together a final resistance to dismantle the evil deity, and succeeded in destroying their previous physical form at the cost of newly everyone in their party. But by then it was too late. The darkness now reigned, and it would take millennia before balance was restored.

It was at that point that Void indirectly created the Jambastion Cult. Having regained a conscious form, they could now coordinate the catalyst for their final, permanent return to power. Void _Termina_ , the cult members were told. This reincarnation of their god — their Dark Lord — would bring balance to the universe and justice to their kind.

In the meantime, as the Jambastion Cult slowly built its strength, both the light and dark fractured and factionalized. From the darkness, there was the "New Merit and Enterprise Corporation" — i.e. "Namenco" or "NME" for short — created by Nightmare (a senior henchman back from their spot on the top), along with Zero's Dark Matter Collective and tens of other groups. For the light, the GSA contended with _hundreds_ of other organizations.

Void faded into the realm of legend. The name became more of a bogeyman in children's tales than a cause for legitimate concern, which was why, Void soon reasoned, _now_ was the perfect time to strike. When everyone was now set on a routine. When everyone was bickering. When their loyal followers were building up their power.

During this down period, Namenco, after much deliberation, had finally managed to effectively wipe out the GSA, leaving the inner Gamble Galaxy, once the home of the ancients, open for conquest. From here, Nightmare chose to go to a planet called Popstar and retrieve an artifact known as the Star Rod. It's immense abilities would allow the Jambastion Cult to effortlessly revive them into a physical form, and so Void, via one of Hyness's loyal followers and generals, aligned the Jambastions with Nightmare. Through them, the cult gained access to a great deal of weapons and ships.

Nightmare had come so close to achieving it — so _painfully_ close — when a child suddenly came out of the picture, seemingly from nowhere, and destroyed him.

It's name was Kirby. He lived on Popstar. And for years, he would prove as the most irritating of nuisances.

Zero and the DMC would be the next group to attempt to seize the rod or conquer the region, of which the Jambadtions would once again align. To accomplish this, they took control of one of the Star Rod's defenders, King Dedede, and captured the nearby Ripple Star as a forward base. Once again, they were defeated by Kirby.

Queen Sectonia, another monarch on Planet Popstar, was unwittingly is corrupted by the Dimensional Mirror, allowing Void free reign over her mind. In time, she would have the desire to become a goddess herself, though in reality this would grant Void a powerful pawn to rule in their place. She too was defeated by Kirby.

Every single time Void tried to regain their form or any means to do so, directly or indirectly, they were repulsed by Kirby.

But then the greatest insult took place.

A couple of years ago, Hyness had managed to follow the scriptures of his ancestors and uncovered the location of the Jamba Heart, an object even Void thought to have been lost. With this revelation, it was at last time to initiate the long-promised final ritual. The first thing that went wrong was that the ritual didn't go to plan. The Jamba Heart ruptured into hundreds of pieces, meaning the Jambastions has to spend many of their resources in retrieving them.

Minutes ago, Void had been revived, but in the bleakest of circumstances. Kirby had once again impeded on their plans, and now all of their hard work was on the brink of being for nought. Much of the Jambastion Cult has been destroyed, and much of the Jamba Heart's shards had been destroyed as well. Hyness had to go so far as to sacrifice himself and the few cultists that hadn't been freed or destroyed by Kirby and company (who referred to themselves as the "Star Allies") to pull it off, so the opportunity could not be squandered.

Thankfully, they had accounted for this threat. Before things really went south, one of Hyness's underlings has managed to infect the child with one of the aforementioned shards. Through this, they attempted to, like Hyness, trick the boy, this time into believing that they meant no harm and did not intend any destruction.

Too bad the deception didn't work. Kirby succeeded in destroying Void Termina — _their new physical form_. The defeat was so devastating and unexpected, that they hadn't even been given a chance to get their bearings.

Void never thought they'd ever have to personally experience anger before. That was an emotion reserved for _lesser_ beings, light and dark. Besides, there was a stark contrast between feeling an emotion to influence it and actually feeling the emotion yourself. But what else could one feel when the thorn in one's paw was starting to legitimately _kill you_??

They had done their waiting. They had built up their forces again and again and now it had to be done _all over again_ , as their destruction had rendered them mostly powerless. At this rate, _all_ the darkeners would be crushed like flies beneath the puffball's shoes!

This _Kirby_...he was a target that should have been destroyed long ago. For too long he had been allowed to roam free. For too long had he been the biggest obstacle in their history. For too long had he postponed and postponed and outright stopped their revival in its tracks. This time, punishment wouldn't be dealt with by any demon beast, nor through a weak, incompetent subordinate, nor through a brainwashed, devoted follower, and _nor through anyone else_! Now things were personal.

But what could they do? They were but a rump of their former self, and besides, Kirby had proven himself to be incorruptible, especially after—

It was during this pondering of their situation that Void remembered something.

That one accomplice of his... _Marx_. The one that had wished for Popstar to be theirs not too long ago. The one that had nearly made Kirby slip over the edge years ago, back when he was still... _vulnerable_. He was standing beside Kirby when they were defeated, as one of the Star Allies.

Even now, Void Termina could sense that Kirby felt a twinge of nervousness whenever _he_ , Marx, was around, locked away in the back of his mind.

If they could chuckle to themselves, they would have. He _was_ still vulnerable after all, and their prior infection gave Void a perfect point of entry. It wasn't the strongest foundation for them to build upon, made worse by the fact that it was something the lightener's mind seemed to pay little attention to, and as such it wouldn't be easy to influence Kirby as a whole. But it was a starting point, regardless. A gateway into ridding themselves of a long-standing hole in their plans. At worst, Void would get to drag Kirby down with them into the endless depths of the abyss. At best, the ultimate irony would be put in place as their twisted form of justice for Kirby's actions.

As much as Void downplayed vengeance, it was admittedly potent motivational force. All that was left to do was to wait for the opportunity for the plan to set itself into motion...

* * *

For Kirby, tomorrow was to going to be one of those days of relaxation and carefreeness.

He had every reason to want to settle down. By all reasonable accounts, this adventure had been quite the grand one; saving Popstar from a cult that worshipped a great evil entity, and then subsequently going out into Another Dimension to save said cult's leader from their own insanity. Certainly what one would call eventful, though certainly not out of the ordinary in regards to what he had dealt with.

He and the Star Allies had just returned home from aforementioned dimension, and now Dream Land could once again sleep well, knowing that Kirby and friends would always be there to save the day from any threat, no matter how dangerous the villain or dire the situation.

And thus, the star warrior laid beneath the shade of the trees, ready to dose off into a relaxing nap. These moments of rest were surprisingly common, now that he thought about it. He was sure that he wouldn't be caught off guard by another invading force like the last time, when the Jamba Heart shards started corrupting everything they came into contact with and his quest began in earnest. Nor...the time before that, when a world-conquering technocratic dictatorship started metalicizing everything — geez, no wonder these guys always get away with trying to invade Popstar all the time (at first, at least). Goodness, he might need to work on his sleep cycle or something.

The Star Allies, a collection of friends he had run into throughout the years who had aided him throughout the journey, were busying themselves with banter, conversing about who knows what. He didn't remember if _he_ coined the phrase or not, but that didn't really matter. Among the large collection of people were the usual suspects of King Dedede, Bandana Dee, and Meta Knight.

And then there was Marx. He was the first of the "other" category to arrive, beside the enemies he befriended through the use of Friend Hearts on the campaign. He even joined before Meta Knight, in fact. Regarding Marx, Kirby had kept a keen watch on him ever since they separated many years ago after the Sun and Moon Incident, though it was mainly because Marx was the one trying to spy on him, as if he were secretly craving... _something_. Some sort of...completeness, as if trying to fill a void in his soul.

Even though Marx was ultimately convinced to join along for the ride, Kirby never let up on his watchful eye over his former best friend. He didn't fully trust him at the start, though it had nothing to do with his past actions.

Even now, victories achieved and new allies made, Kirby _still_ watched over Marx and his behavior, albeit no longer due to distrust. He initially thought it was some sort of overreaction, like an overprotective parent always checking to make sure their child was safe, but he quickly ruled the possibility out as that wasn't the sort of relationship he and Marx have. Or _had_. Something else was at play. Something he hadn't really experienced for a while now.

Marx looked so cute. So _sweet_. Like he could be eaten up as a tasty pastry. The purple jester in question was seated in a group consisting of some of the star warrior's former opponents: **Magolor** , the alien who had attempted to deceive Kirby and Co. into granting him control over the universe; **Susie** , the interim president of the Haltmann Works Company and robotic assistant of their previous president (whom Kirby deposed after he tried to conquer Popstar); **Taranza** , the misled arachanid servant to the former Queen of Floralia, who sought to use them in a bid for world domination — goodness, a lot of overly ambitious ex-villains are here in attendance — and even the latest foes to come over to his side, the **Three Mage Sisters** — Franberge, Francisca, and Zan Partizanne. Amongst all of them, Kirby knew that Marx wasn't too dissimilar from them, but as far as they knew, Marx appeared to be odd one out in their little group for more reasons than one.

"Hey! Bub!" called Susie.

"Wha-?" said Marx. "Who're you calling—"

"Pinky always seems to be keeping you under close watch." she said. "Explain."

Marx shrugged. "Beats me."

"Oh come on!" groaned Taranza. "Even you know you're lying."

"I mean, some of us have done some pretty reprehensible things." commented Magolor. He turned to where Susie and the Mage Sisters were situated and emphasized, " _Some more so than others_."

"Not like _you're_ any better." scolded Zan.

"We're all guilty here!" shouted Flamberge.

"L-Let off!" stuttered Francisca.

Susie just shrugged. Goodness, these natives and organics can be so _irritating_ sometimes.

Before she could bring the subject back on track, Marx spoke up. "It doesn't matter anymore, though, does it? We're all Kirby's friends now, right?"

"Correction: _Allies_." Susie interjected. "Are we and Pinky on positive terms? Yes. Are we and Pinky _friends_? No; at least not in my case."

"Hey, speaking of, um..." started Magolor. He trailed before a realization came to mind. "Hey, you never told us your name! Care to tell?"

Marx flatly responded, "It's _Marx_. Happy?"

"Happy as Mappy!" he cheered. "So...as I was asking, how did you and Kirby meet up, exactly?"

"Does it matter?"

"Course it does." said Zan.

"We tried to kill the brat 'cause he got in Hyness's way!" shouted Flamberge.

"He is our master, after all, so what else _could_ we do?" said Francisca.

"I was just following Queen Sectonia's orders." commented Taranza. "Didn't even know what the bugger _looked_ like."

"President Haltmann gave me the order to dispose of 'the Kirby', as he put it," Susie added. "But I was already able to discern that he was impeding our progress toward restructuring this planet."

"So...you call turning everything into robots or metal... _restructuring_." Magolor scolded.

"You have a problem with that, Halcandran?" the robot sneered back.

"Not a _problem_...just intrigue..."

She rolled her eyes. _Typical_. she thought.

"So what about you then, smug guy?" poked Zan.

"Since you're being a _prick_ and all!" pushed Flamberge.

"What's with your—"

" _Alright_! Ladies, I get it! Shush!" Magolor stopped Francisca from adding any further insult to injury. "I was _getting to that_. Essentially...what happened was...well, it's complicated, you see. But I was told by this grand wizard back home, I needed to get this thing called the 'Master Crown' from Popstar, like to prove my worth and all. I would've easily gotten it, too, but my ship crashed, and to make a long story short, Kirby was there, he agreed to help out, and the crown wasn't as _friendly_ as I was told...so yeah. Guess I fit the mold too, right?"

That story was an exaggeration. He knew fully well what the Master Crown was and the powers it contained without any external help. But these guys weren't there when it happened, so he could afford to embellish a few details to afford himself some moral high ground.

Or at least, he thought he could. Marx squinted his eyes in distrust when hearing this version of the story of Kirby's return to Dream Land. He saw right through Magolor's lies because, unbeknownst to Magolor, Marx _had_ witnessed some of the key events of the whole ordeal. Just so happened he was in the background, not partaking in the action.

He raised his hand to object, but Magolor quickly cut him off by dragging all the attention his way. "But enough about me." the alien said. "What bout _you_? Who was your boss or, ehm, manipulator of sorts?"

Marx was now somewhat miffed. He knew it was a loaded question, and was starting to feel pressure from the audience starring at him, awaiting a response. "I don't _have someone like that!" he said._

"Then what's your story then, Mark?"

" _Marx_. Get it right!"

"Where do you fit in with Kirby in all this?"

"I—"

"He appears somewhat strained by your question." commented Susie.

"Yeah, let off him!" Francisca pleaded.

"Hush, Fran!" hushed Zan. "I want to hear what he has to say."

"Yeah, so be quiet!" demanded Flamberge.

The situation proved to be too much for the jester to handle, and in the heat of the moment he yelled, "Can everybody just _SHUT UP_??"

Complete silence. Quite literally all the Star Allies went silent, their attention drawn to the commotion that had unfolded and now exploded. The only sounds anyone could hear was Kirby's soft snoring in the background and Marx's raspy breathing in the foreground.

Marx was shaking, his eyes clenched shut, his arms struggling to hold himself together. Everyone who surrounded him looked shocked; some even genuinely concerned, like Magolor. He wasn't expecting the purple one to react so angrily.

The jester slowly opened his eyes again, where it became apparent that his pupils have shrunken considerably. They were tiny dots on a canvas — totally terrified.

He somehow caught eye contact with Meta Knight, who had been talking with Sword and Blade before Marx unraveled. Unlike everyone else, who appeared scared, shocked, or puzzled, Meta Knight looked...accusing. As if he was saying, _You know fully well what you've done._

But that's the thing! He hadn't done anything wrong!

He hadn't said any—!

He hadn't said anything. He had never told them anything about himself the entire time.

Without thinking too much about it, he dashed away, past the tree Kirby was napping beneath, to get away from the crowd. He needed some time to settle his problems by himself.

King Dedede, somewhat startled by the recent events, chose to kill two birds with one stone: A) help the poor kid out by redirecting everyone's attention; and 2) he had been thinking about doing something special, and now was the time to announce it.

"Right...So now that everybody's quieted down, I have an announcement to make." the penguin said. "So given that we have all been brought together on this magnificent journey, and...seeing that we all probably won't be in the same room until some other nasty thing occurs..."

Most everyone nodded in quiet agreement. This had been fun and all, but this gathering likely wasn't going to last too long. Everyone just had too many different things to deal with.

"I have decided!" he raised his voice. "That as a final tribute to our acquaintanceship until then," Before most could notice, Dedede silently 'yes'ed himself, probably for having successfully said such a complex word. "to put together a feast for you all...in the form of...a **quicnic**!!"

Although the atmosphere was still somewhat unsettling, some of the Star Allies already had their complements to give:

"Hey, that sounds like a great idea!" said Rick.

"Count us in!" Ribbon added.

Their comments certainly helped to clear away the tension, and most everyone was now visibly excited by the prospect.

"Excuse me, Great King" started Bandana Dee, standing beside the monarch. "but what exactly is a 'quicnic'?"

"It's short for 'quick' and 'picnic', you dimwit." he replied.

Ouch.

"S-Sorry, sir—"

" _Nip it_ , Bandee."

Double ouch.

"I've already notified the cooks back at the castle," Dedede called out, "so y'all can either sit tight and help set up or get your things settled. We've got an hour!"

"Wait!" Ribbon said, pointing. "What about Kirby?"

He looked fast asleep, snoring softly and peacefully beneath his tree.

"Let the kid have his rest, will ya?" Dedede responded, though this time not in a demeaning manner.

"Yeah. It means there's more food for the rest of us." commented a Poppy Bro. Several Allies, including Magolor and Bandee, burst out in laughter.

Soon after, most everyone was focused on getting the feast set up and ready. This was going to be quite the excellent formality, a shining symbol of their team's newfound unity. Most had already agreed that, in case of any future catastrophe, they would meet up to organize their defense, whether it be battle plans, administration, or anything else. If anything, all these people together in one place would allow for new connections and opportunities to be made.

In the meantime, though, Marx didn't hear or care to overhear any of that. He was too busy wandering aimlessly through the orchard Kirby had parked himself in front of. Though, with how long he had been wandering through it, it seemed more like a forest than anything.

He was pondering. Pondering and pondering about why he acted the way he did back there. With _them_. With everyone, to be honest.

Why hadn't he told them anything? Why had he only given his name when the adventure was over? Was he trying to act tough? Mysterious? Confident? What was he trying to accomplish? Maybe he was just trying to get low enough under the radar to not be asked any hard, painful questions but obviously that didn't work.

Was he trying to run away from his past? It certainly didn't feel like it. He felt the same as he always had for years now; alone, empty, and under the impression that he was powerless to do anything in the wonderful world that surrounded him. The problem now was that he knew all too well what happens when he let his thirst for power get the best of him.

Maybe that was why he didn't want to tell them anything. He didn't want them to know that the jester had once been the best friend and coping mechanism of the innocent, lovable, and beloved Kirby of the Stars. That he had deliberately manipulated and seduced the puffball into granting the jester's most selfish of wishes. That he had, only missing by a hair's width, failed to murder the star warrior not just once, but twice. That, after all that, he couldn't get over how he lost the only thing that had given him meaning and a sense of clear direction in his life. That he was sorry.

That he was broken. Perhaps even insane or sadistic.

He had been promised to find a way to move on, a to get over his grief and just move on with himself. But he couldn't. He couldn't move on. He refused to move on. Something inside him couldn't allow it.

He stopped walking as an embarrassing realization swept over him. His face felt like it was burning.

What a way to make things even _worse. He was well aware that Kirby had straight up admitted he had feelings for him, during the fateful Sun and Moon Incident. At the time, he didn't really care. Back then, it was just a sign that his plans were already working._

There was no way Kirby would _still_ love him, especially after so long. How tragic: this aspect of their relationship has always been one-sided. Just so happened that the arrow had flipped. Great. Just great.

And besides, now he had even more reasons to want to keep up this façade with everyone else. A Fringeman in love with _Kirby_. How foolishly ambitious.

He was waiting for it now. Bracing for the inevitable. Preparing for the onslaught from the voice in his head, tempting him to forget about all of these Star Allies and kill them all or something along those lines. It was an accompaniment he had acquired since waking back up on Popstar, not having a clue of how he survived crashing into Nova or how he got back on the planet to begin with.

It was coming...

Uh, any second now.

...Hello?

That was odd. There was no one there.

 _There was nothing there_.

Nobody there taunting him over his self-loathing. Nobody promising the ultimate form of vengeance. There was nothing.

And it felt... _liberating_. As though a heavy weight had been lifted from his shoulders.

He was free! _He was free_! Free from what? WHO CARES! HE WAS FREE!

In an instant, his sorrow was washed away and the jester was overcome with happiness and such satisfying relief. He was skipping around, feeling the wind beneath his feet, hearing the crushing of foliage on the ground, hugging himself and crying tears Olof joy all the while.

What a day to be alive.

Maybe this was what Kirby meant when he made that promise when the jester had agreed to come along on their quest. Maybe...maybe he just needed to be honest with himself for once in his existence.

He noticed an opening in the distance — a way out of the forest. It didn't matter if he was lost, because he was going to take it regardless.

Beyond, the soil subtly smoothed out and lightened in color into something reminiscent of chalk. He had found himself atop a cliff edge, providing an excellent vista overlooking Orange Ocean to the west. To his right, he could see Castle Dedede and Cappy Town in the distance, along with a bit of Green Greens. Above him, the sky was a vibrant mix of blues and whites and light reds. All and all, the mix of colors made for a picture-esque scene. It was a sight that rightfully belonged in the Land of Dreams.

He sat down right on edge, not really caring all too much about the height. He was too busy taking the view in to pay much attention to that small detail. He remembered that he had once imagined a sight such as this one to be at the end of him and Kirby's grand adventure all those years ago, even after he had fallen victim to his own inadequacies and greed. He imagined the two of them, standing on the edge of the world, triumphant, heads held high. He would say, _It's a beautiful sight, isn't it, Kirby? Absolutely breathtaking..._

And then Kirby would say, _It sure is, poyo. And you earned it._

And then Marx would nervously laugh as he replied, _Y-Yeah. Guess I did, didn't I? Knew I had it in me...just needed the will to make use of it._

And then Kirby would say—

"Amazing view, isn't it?"

Marx shrieked, nearly knocking himself forward and down the cliff. Standing up, he turned around to tell this joker to—

Awkward pause.

It was Kirby. How did he—

"You're all alone, poy." he said.

Marx started heating up again. To distract himself, he responded, "Y-Yeah. I don't mind, though. I'm used to it by now..."

"Marx—"

"I don't want you to feel bad about me, okay?" he continued. "I'm not gonna ask if you can take me back under your wing or anything like that. It's fine. I-I'm feeling a lot better now."

"...Are you, though?"

Marx raised an eyebrow. "Of course I am. I've...I've had a long think about everything and...well I think I'm finally ready. T-To go on with my life and...be friends with you again."

"I know, I know, poyo." Kirby said. "You've been a wonderful friend. A-And a great ally, too."

"Yeah. Any other breaking news?" Marx scoffed, breaking the mood. Wow, this felt _great_! He was already starting to slip in the occasional joke again!

"..." Kirby, by contrast, was struggling somewhat. He was getting nervous about something. The jester raised an eyebrow upon noticing him stumbling. "Poy...M-Marx, I need to tell you—"

" _Ahem_." He got interrupted by an all too familiar cloaked, masked figure clearing his throat. "Excuse me." Meta Knight said, occasionally shifting his focus between the two boys. "Aren't you two supposed to be, as his liege put it...at the ' _quicnic_ '?" Using air quotes.

Marx awkwardly starred at the knight, his face now bright red. "R-Right. I...I should be getting back now. Wh-Where should I—."

"Just _follow the path_." Meta Knight said. "Should do you well."

As the jester uncomfortably left to rejoin the others, trying to figure out where this "path" Meta Knight was talking about was, the star warriors were now alone, Meta Knight's cape swishing in the wind.

Kirby tried to follow Marx, but was stopped when the knight quickly uttered, "Not. So. Fast. You and I have some things to...discuss."

The pink puffball clenched his stubs together. Meta Knight was speaking in a rather serious, very stern tone. This wasn't the time to make fun or a fool. "Wh-What about?" he asked, as casually as he could muster.

"Tell me, have you..." Meta Knight approached the pupil. "felt anything _off_ recently?"

"N-Not that I know of, poy." Kirby squeaked.

Meta huffed. That wasn't the right answer.

"I mean, I felt nervous when talking with Marx about things."

"...?" Meta Knight's eyes flashed in puzzlement. That wasn't the answer he was expecting, but at least it was satisfactory enough for him to want to proceed. Kirby sighed in relief. "But why?" he inquired. "You two seemed to be getting along rather well."

"We are... Poy-It's just..." Kirby trailed off.

Meta noted the behavior. "You haven't told anyone." He said.

The puffball nodded.

"About Marx."

He nodded again.

"About what happened."

"I don't want anyone to worry about it."

"For how long, Kirby? For how long are you going to postpone the inevitable?"

"No! Not yet! They can't know now. Not after what we've just finished. Why spoil their happiness with our— _their_ —success?"

"If you don't say anything now, they'll find out when it's too late."

"Then they can find out on their own." With that, he stormed off before disappearing into the forest shortly afterwards.

Meta Knight squinted in distrust behind his mask, his eyes flashing green in thought and suspicion. Kirby was most certainly keeping something under wraps. He knew it hadn't anything to do with affection — he could tell that Kirby wasn't exactly into Marx in that way. Not anymore, at least. Whatever this was, it wasn't anything pleasant. He was _guilty_ of something. But what?

More interestingly, and what he had intended to figure out by interrupting their talk in the first place, was this...eerily familiar... _feeling_.

It was very weak, but Meta could swear he felt a small twinge — a presence — emanating out of the young star warrior.

The questions now were what it was and, perhaps more importantly, why was doing there.

And without a doubt it was because of that Marx character.

 ** _To be continued._**


	2. The Gathering

_**Hey guys. It's Simon. I know it's been freakin' FOREVER, but it's summer now so expect some new stuff.**_

 _ **And now for the long-awaited review replies for chapter 1:**_

 _Bunnyrabbit202 **Glad to see that you and your inner fangirl have been sufficiently satisfied by the last chapter. Hope this won't disappoint.**_

 _FanficLovingPerson **I thought I could add in some mythology to add on top of the whole Void Termina thing from Kirby Star Allies. Just so happened that Smash Ultimate had been recently released so yolo.**_

 _Sleepy Kokalie **Glad to see you're back!**_

 _ **And finally, it's time for the even longer-awaited chapter 2 of Fading Away!**_ _ **Remember to follow this story and leave a review. I really appreciate your feedback.**_

When Meta has told him to "follow the path", Marx hadn't expected it to be this easy.

Of course, it initially appeared difficult, given how there was no visible path leading from that cliffside back to whatever this "quicnic" was with the Star Allies. And yet, somehow, there was just this instinctual knowing of where he needed to go, as if he had treaded through here before. Because he _had_. When wandering through the forest at random, that is. How he remembered the way back was a mystery, though.

Meta Knight in general was a mystery.

He had been Kirby's personal mentor and teacher for years, and even now the former two continues to train the latter. But that was all Marx knew about the mysterious elder Star Warrior. He hadn't a clue where he came from or how he operated — only that he had been part of the **Galactic Soldier Army** and had fought in the war against Nightmare. He always had this aura of uncertainty that surrounded him, with perhaps the only person who knew any further details about him being Kirby.

The menacing cape. The mask. Just...everything about Meta Knight made Marx feel... _uncomfortable_. As if he could pop up behind him at any moment. He somehow knew had his motives and his reasons, knowing what to say and what to do at precisely, strictly precisely, the right time.

He was back there for a reason. Marx knew that much. Whatever reason that was, he hadn't a clue. He was left pondering on that thought the whole trip back.

He eventually returned to the grounds in question, and, snapped out of his thoughts, was left visibly impressed. Everyone had done a fantastic job with setting everything up. There was a large, festive tent beneath which everything was set. There were four sets of long tables, each with all sorts of foods from the usual entrées to various different pastries, including a rather attractive piece of chocolate cake that the jester could barely resist.

There were various places Marx could choose to sit down; one of them was made up of the Mage Sisters, Hyness seated opposite of them. Another table had Susie by herself, though she very clearly looked as though she wasn't demanding any sort of company. There were other tables with other combinations of Allies, too, such as one with the mirror incarnations of Kirby and his mentor seated beside Knuckle Joe and some of his companions. And then there was one particular table that was more decorated than any of the others, with purple and crimson covering the bare wood and decorations galore.

Clearly, this was King Dedede's table. Seated beside the monarch were several Waddle Dees — including Bandee, seated at the end of the table — along with various officials and the like. In front of them was seated Taranza and others — likely talking about something he dubbed the "Floralian Alliance" (a proposed alliance between the Kingdoms of Dreamland and Floralia that he wouldn't shut up about despite nearly everybody's disinterest in it). At another end of the same table was Ribbon, joined by a delegation from Ripple Star. Clearly, this aspect of the "quicnic" had morphed into a separate beast altogether while he was away.

There was an empty seat right beside Dedede in addition to one opposite to Bandee. Given the somewhat posh and political aura that this table was giving off, Marx didn't feel comfortable taking the latter, and the fact that Sword and Blade were seated beside to the former made it obvious whose seat he had found to be vacant. Needless to say, he wouldn't be sitting there, either.

Looking again, it seemed like not everyone was entirely excited about the table. In particular, Ribbon looked quite bored. Marx wasn't surprised; she might be a ruler of a planet, but she didn't fit the mold of what he thought of as a ruler; big, powerful, lazy, or at the very least bloated and/or corrupt — the usual traits he had come to expect. She stuck out like a sore thumb: she was small, cute, somewhat unassuming, friendly, optimistic, etc. He considered poking Ribbon in the back of the head, both for mischief and for fun; a purposely childish gesture to grab her attention so he could get her out of this boring place. Maybe even drag Bandee along and then go sit with some of the others, plop down somewhere else, chat a bit, relax, and have some fun. Yep! That sounded like a plan!

 _Let the politicians keep to themselves, Marx reasoned. We'll have all the fun._

But as he continued to scan over the guests, he caught a short glimpse of someone else sitting at Dedede's side of the table. Someone that derailed his train of thought. It was one of the king's officials, or at least someone that looked the part, seated next to the somewhat aged Cabinet Minister.

It was a girl — scratch that, a young adult. He didn't know what it was about her, but something she felt vaguely... _familiar_...

She turned her gaze toward him when suddenly something clicked. Something clicked for both of them. Everything froze in place.

The lady looked as though she had just seen an assassin. Or worse still, a _demonbeast_. Suddenly, the jester wasn't feeling so comfortable anymore. His confidence from earlier now shattered, he stumbled backward. He didn't know why, but he needed to get away from her. He needed to get away from everyone.

He broke their eye contact. Everything was a blur. He quickly strutted out of her eyesight. Hopefully she didn't—

"Marx!"

He tripped. That hurt.

"You...You doing alright?"

He picked himself off the ground, brushing some stray grass blades from his face. With all senses of urgency having evaporated as quickly as they had appeared, Marx recognized that it was Magolor who had startled him.

"I-I'm...doing better." he initially struggled to respond.

"You sure 'bout that? You looked like somebody was about to attack you." Magolor pried.

"N-No. It's nothing." Marx responded. Out of the corner of his eye, he looked back at the lady. She was whispering something to one of her colleagues. Well it _was_ nothing. "It's nothing." he repeated.

"L-Look, Marx..." Magolor started. "I..." he sighed. Clearly, he was feeling some discomfort as well. But why...?

"Go on..."

"I just wanted to say that I-I'm sorry about earlier and...about pressuring you and all that." His hands — er...mitts — were shuffling nervously. "I-I didn't mean to—"

"Huh?" What was Magolor going on about—

Oh. _Oh_. That.

"Oh that? Nah, it's fine." Marx said. _Why is this guy so preoccupied about that_?

"R...Really?" Magolor blinked.

"Yeah..." Marx relaxes. "I got some time to myself, time to get some fresh air, and with that...I think now's as good a time as ever to properly introduce myself."

Magolor raised an eyebrow. "You sure you'll be comfortable?"

"Might as well be, right?"

"Ha! Yep!" Magolor pat the jester on the back. "So...we good?"

"I said it's fine! Come on! Loosen up! Enjoy yourself."

"R-Right. Right. Just to let you know, I...I haven't told anybody what your name was, so...keep that in mind."

"Got it. Thanks for the tip." The Halcandran nodded in response.

Before Marx could give his grand introduction, however, he needed to find a good spot to do so. Right where most everyone can hear and see him. He didn't want to go up to and ask Dedede for permission; she was still there. Conversing about something.

Magolor, still beside him, noticed Marx's slow transition back into uncertainty. "Yo, you into the Ebrum girl or something?"

That was her name. Her surname. First name Fumu. As in Fumu "Tiff" Ebrum. The very same Fumu that Kirby had introduced him to the summer he formulated his evil plan.

"Wh-What?? No!" Marx said. "No. It's just that...I-I know her."

"You sure you're not into her?"

"Shut up!" He swiped Magolor in protest.

"Hey! Take it easy! I was just kiddin' with you."

"I know..." Marx looked at the ground as he continued to struggle to give any semblance of a clear explanation. "I...I just..."

Why was he so worried about her? She only knew him personally for at most a summer and a half, give-or-take, from long ago. Fumu couldn't possibly know much about what happened between him and Kirby, could she?

Then again, why did she look so scared when she saw him? It wasn't a look of curiosity, nor one of accusation. Her face didn't exactly go white or anything, but her eyes...they were glistening in terror. In that case, she had to have known something. But what?

"You...what?" Magolor poked.

"I...met her. Through Kirby." Marx said.

"Heh. You lucky bastard."

Marx could only glare at Magolor in bitter disappointment for that remark.

"Alright, I'll stop." he squeaked.

Returning to the subject at hand after a deep breath, Marx continued, "She knows about me. And the problem at the moment is...well, that I don't know what she knows about me."

"Well, what did you do together?"

"Just...played around with Kirby and...th-that's about it..."

"Really? You concerned about this lady you played frisbee with when you were younger?"

"It's not that! It's...the thing is, Magolor..." his eyes briefly lighting up when Marx muttered his name, "Th-the thing is...as far as I can discern...sh-she's the first person that ever truly cared about Kirby. The first person he ever really trusted."

His eyes now widened with that bit of intel. "Wait, what? You serious?"

"In fact, from what I could tell, she was one of the first people to interact with him when he first crash landed onto the planet—"

"Stop! Hold the phone! He's not from Popstar?"

Um... _what_?? "Magolor, he's a Star Warrior. I know you're an alien and all, but I thought you would have heard about them."

"Relax! I know what a Star Warrior is. 'Ts just that there're plenty of 'em that're known to have originated from here. It was just an assumption on my part, that's all."

"...Oh. Okay then." Marx shifted back uncomfortably. "Was worried for a second there."

"Marx, I was the bad guy, remember? It's not like I became friends with him overnight. Didn't I tell you that?"

He sank deeper. He _didn't_ remember. How couldn't he have remembered? He had... "...Oh..." he muttered.

"...So, um...for curiosity's sake, unless you want to give your answer in front of Ms. Ebrum over there, tell me..." Magolor leaned in. "How did you 'n Kirby first meet up?"

Marx shuffled his fingers, thinking about it. Talking in front of the one Star Ally, rather than all of them plus guests, certainly helped to alleviate some of his built-up stress, but figuring out what to say, where to start... It was tough. "Hm..."

He could begin right when he first met with Kirby. Or perhaps just a bit before then for a bit of context. He'd have to start just before he lost his ball; specifically, how he lost it. And who was responsible —

"Well?"

"I...I'm thinking about it." Marx said. "It's a bit complicated. I'm trying to think of where to—"

"Marx!" someone called out.

Once again, the purple puffball was forced out of his train of thought. But...hold on. It wasn't Magolor's voice that had done so. Both of them turned around.

It was Kirby. About time he showed up. He had emerged from outside the tent, and presumably from the forest. He was headed towards them, but not in a casual manner. His expression looked somewhat urgent.

Magolor took the opportunity to pull a quick jab at the star warrior. "Alright everyone!" he said out loud, jokingly. "Party's over! Kirby's finally come for _his_ share of the food!"

Marx would have chuckled at his remark if Kirby wasn't still approaching. That didn't stop plenty of other attendees from laughing, however.

The puffball motioned for the jester to follow before accidentally bumping him on the shoulder. Despite his clumsiness, Marx did get the message without complaining about any bad manners on Kirby's part. Magolor, however, had also tagged along.

The two colleagues looked at each other with slight concern. If Kirby was acting so strangely, something must be wrong. Probably has to do with whatever Meta Knight was doing back there, Marx presumed. Maybe he was warning him or something? Some new threat, even?

Was it just him, or did the tent just grow a bit warmer?

The jester needed answers. "Hey! Kirby!" Marx whispered. "What're we doing? Where're we going?"

"Poyo, we're leaving." Kirby said.

The two followers were left in a state of utter shock. "Wait wait wait!" Magolor interjected. Before Kirby could question what he was doing there, the Halcandran had dashed in front of him, blocking off his intended exit point. "What do you mean you're leaving? You were barely here to begin with!"

"W-Well—" Kirby started.

"This is supposed to be a picnic for everyone, especially you!" Magolor added. "What could possibly be the matter?"

"L-Like what's going on?" Marx asked. "What're you—"

"I—" Kirby stumbled. _Let me_ —

"You can't just come here and then leave without notice! We're your friends, right?"

"What're you doing?"

"Poy, if I could just—" _Can I please_ —

"You haven't even said 'Goodbye' or anything!"

"Why're we—"

"BE QUIET!!" Kirby yelled out, immediately causing the other two to stop their talking and stand entirely still. They didn't seem to want to further provoke him, and by now he was steaming. _If they so desperately and incessantly want to get an answer from me,_ he fumed, _Why couldn't they just shut up and let me explain myself?? Is it really so hard to let me talk??_

He covered his mouth in disgust. In an instant, his spike in anger had been replaced with a deep, sickening realization of the tone he just taken up. This outburst — heck, these outbursts in general — ...this wasn't normal. This...this _wasn't_ normal...

Which was weird. He _felt_ normal. Things didn't seem to be going awry in his mind. Maybe he was just really riled up after he stormed away from Meta Knight's small chat in the cliffside in the forest.

But then again, that's why he was leaving for home, wasn't it? He doesn't want them to know too much about Marx, right? Despite everything, it was still too close and too personal a subject for his liking.

And besides, he had...something else he needed to tell Marx...

None of them wouldn't understand, would they?

 _No, they wouldn't_.

Huh? What was that?

...Doesn't matter.

Looking around, he noticed that the commotion had now caught the attention of everyone in the quicnic, along with some very familiar faces he swore weren't here previously. He tried as best as he could to cover up his internal disarray.

Yeah. Definitely not a good time to open the can of worms. Time to divert the subject...

"S...Sorry about that, e-everyone—" he started. "I just—"

"He has a lot on his mind." someone finished.

 _What was with it with everyone interrupting everyone else today?_ Marx grumbled to himself.

Meta Knight had appeared, as usual, seemingly from out of nowhere at exactly the right moment. "I know we all want to show our appreciation for all that he has done," he continued, "but he has some...let's just say other matters to deal with at the moment."

There was a short moment of silence. Plenty of people beneath the tent could sympathize, but—

"Ugh!" King Dedede groaned in the background. "Alright, alright. I can understand. The kid needs some rest after everything, but at least have him do something before he goes off! We haven't seen him since we started this whole thing!"

"Y-Yeah!" chimed in Bandee. "L-Like a speech or something!"

"Yeah!" Ribbon agreed. "Have him say something! Come on, Kirby! Say something sweet before you leave, please?"

Within a short period of time, most everyone was demanding that Kirby address them. Magolor had joined in with the crowd in calling for a speech. Meta Knight was visibly annoyed. Marx didn't know what was going on. He looked around.

Everyone, even if they were somewhat riled up, seemed innocent enough. Most didn't look like they had any mal-intent; many of the faces, in fact, looked to be encouraging. They were egging him on, but they didn't want him to feel too awkward about it. Typical peer pressure.

A few of the faces were disinterested in the ordeal; Susie seemed to be deliberately ignoring everyone, and Fumu—

She looked...concerned?

Wh-Why was it that she in particular evoked such... _fear_? What did _she_ ever do to _him_?

And then there was Kirby...

In spite of all the support, he was trembling slightly. He was trying so hard to hide his discomfort, but...

"A-Alright, then." he spoke up. "Alright! I'll talk."

"Woo!" cheered Dedede. "C'mon, then! Get up over here, then!" He motioned some guards to bring him up to a small podium in front of his table. The rest soon followed in their cheering.

On the approach, Kirby took a few deep breaths. _Okay... Okay... Just get through this and you can talk_ _with_ _Marx..._

What to say... What to say? The usual optimistic spiel? That wouldn't do. That was too bland. They deserved better than that.

 _Run when they aren't looking._

Before he knew it, he was on stage. Everybody was... _starring_ at him.

"...W-Well...Poyo, I'd just like to say..." Kirby started. He looked around. Everyone was listening with anticipation. Oh, the pressure... "Poy would just like to...um...apologize."

The statement elicited a confused response from the audience. Susie, previously self-isolated from the others, spoke up and said, "What are you apologizing for? You didn't do anything wrong."

The Mage Sisters were slightly less fazed, but puzzled nonetheless. Perhaps he was apologizing for beating them up earlier, but they _were_ about to destroy the Universe, so the Star Allies' intervention in their plan was...justified? "Yeah, wh-what _did_ you do—" started Francisca.

"—to warrant this apology?" finished Zan Partizanne.

Those at Dedede's table seemed the most concerned our of everyone. "What's the matter, Kirby?" Bandee asked.

"Something wrong?" Ribbon added.

"No!" Kirby firmly stated. The chatter quieted down. "Nothing's wrong. I mean..." The puffball calmed a little. "...this whole _thing_. It's supposed to commemorate our camaraderie, right? And...I kind of walked away from it because I..."

He turned toward Marx for a second before regaining his composure. "I-I needed to help out a friend, poyo. I guess what I want to say is...that I should've spent some time here with the rest of you before we all...go our separate ways."

There was a brief moment of silence, an aura of awkwardness and sincerity in the air.

"Kid..." Dedede chimes in. "You've got to be the most annoyingly humble character I've ever met."

Now it was Kirby's time to be confused. "Poy, what do you—"

"I mean, come on! You don't to be all worked up over helping someone out when they're in distress!" he pointed to Marx, who shifted in embarrassment. "Even if there's a bunch of other friends egging you to stay here." When Kirby's expression shifted to a more accusing look, he added, "I-I realize that that sounds kind of ironic, but you get the point!

"We don't mind that you ran off during our victory banquet! No need to apologize 'bout anything!"

The Star Warrior blinked. "Poy-Oh. Okay, then... Yeah!" He was clearly relieved. "Sh-Should I apologize for that whole awkward situation, poy?" he then said, tipping his head.

"Oh come on!" Dedede laughed. "Now we know you're joking around!"

The other guests joined in the laughter. Most of them, at least. Despite standing next to Magolor, who shouted "Good one, Kirby!" after the sudden comedic payoff, Marx was left a bit puzzled. Meta Knight looked on with suspicion. And Fumu...

"W-With that said," Kirby regathered everyone's attention. "I really just wanted to say, poy... th-thank you all for everything on this adventure. Being honest, poyo, I probably would've gotten stuck along the way without your help."

Several awes were emoted from the listeners, followed by a short round of applause. Marx wanted to feel touched by what Kirby was saying, but he...he couldn't. He was distracted by just...well...

Was it just him, or was the puffball trying a bit _too_ hard to look cute?

It should've felt a bit off-putting. _Is Kirby trying to charm the audience?_ Despite that question being raised, he couldn't concentrate on the question for very long. He started trembling again.

"I hope this sets a new...um... _precedent_ is the word, I think?" Kirby continued. "I-I hope that this meetup set a new precedent for a-a more connected future, poy. E-Even if I wasn't really here for most of it."

More applause. More questions raised.

 _Why did he all of a sudden struggle with saying some big words?_

More questions ignored. Marx started sweating.

"A-Anyways, as Meta Knight said, I've g-got to leave now, poyo. Have something to take care of with..."

His smiled dropped again. Why was he so incessantly trying to avoid saying his—

"Marx." he said. "His name is Marx."

After a brief period of inaction, Kirby silently speeded past the onlookers and out of the tent. Marx was quick to follow in his footsteps. Everybody else was left behind, left to look on from the background.

"So...that just happened." the penguin commented.

"Sh-Should someone—" Bandee started.

"Let them be." Meta Knight spoke again. He gazed at the ground, pondering. "They've a lot to catch up on."

"On what?" questioned Susie. "What would the Kirby have to catch up on with some random, scrappy joker?"

Meta Knight faced the group again. "You all, too, have a lot to catch up on."

 ** _To be continued_**


	3. The Chase

**_I'm thinking of starting a fan comic or something at some point to delve into what happens in this series's version of Kirby Star Allies. I've been practicing drawing various characters, and so far people I've showed my sketches to have been quite impressed!_**

 ** _On to chapter 3! There were no reviews. BOO! Y'ALL SUCK_**

 ** _JK_**

 ** _Now let's get on with it!_**

Marx was running. Running through the fields. Running through the fields of Green Greens, bathed in an orange light. How he hadn't tripped over something yet, he didn't know. He didn't care. He was following someone. He was following Kirby.

It had taken a little while, but Marx was finally starting to catch up with him, the distance between them slowly closing. The feat was certainly tougher than initially expected; the pink puffball must have been eager to leave the picnic because the jester needed to speed walk at first just to keep him in sight before speeding up to a more brisk pace.

As the distance between them continued to decrease, quite the significant amount of distance had been gained between them and the quicnic tent, which continued to shrink into the distance. Where were they going, exactly?

Where was Kirby leading him?

Continuing with his forward momentum, the Star Warrior briefly turned toward Marx. There was a faint blush in his cheeks. His eyes were suspiciously bright. He was smiling, giggling under his breath.

His laughter became more pronounced as his pace again quickened, going from a mild run to brisk sprint.

"C'mon, poyo!" he called out. "Come and catch me!"

 _Come and catch him? Why does he want to_...

Why...

 _Why_ aren't _I chasing after him?_

 _Get on with it! Go get him!_

Up until now, Marx had been following him out of obligation; out of the belief that he was being led to some final destination. And whilst that may still be the case, it seemed as though Kirby was more interested in playing around with and toying with his follower. The jester didn't deliberate any further; he joined in on the fun. Yeah, it was clearly another one of Kirby's childish games, but hey; they just finished up a grand adventure with all those people. Maybe it was about time they relaxed and had fun for old time's sake.

He sped up. Maybe if he pushed just a bit further he could _just about_ reach him...

"You're never gonna get me!" Kirby taunted.

"Oh, we'll see about _that_!" he retorted.

He could feel the adrenaline within him seething with energy. He could feel the world warm up around him. He could taste the excitement! It felt amazing! Where had it been for so long??

By now the tent would have looked like a dim spot of light in front of some trees out in the distance. That didn't matter. All that mattered was what was ahead of him. Specifically _who_ was in front of him.

Marx could picture the look on Kirby's face once he was reached. He could picture his arm reaching out, grazing his skin before grabbing hold of the unsuspecting Star Warrior. His pink...soft...delicate skin.

 _Is it skin? Or is it a membrane of some sort? Whatever. Screw the details_.

They'd both quickly slow to a complete stop, both panting. Panting... Sweating...

"Challenge complete—" he would say, out of breath.

Kirby would just nod, somehow still having it in him to not cease his soft laughter. "Well..." he would breathe heavily. "I told you to do it, poy...and you did."

His eyes would be tearing up both from pure joy and complete exhaustion. His cheeks would be bright red. His face, his body, his... _everything_...

Everything would look so cute. So _perfect_.

Everything would feel so... _warm_? Red hot. Burning hot.

There was a lump in his throat. He was trembling again.

"K...Kirby..." Marx would stutter.

Nova, he would look so longing. So desperate. Desperate — begging — for acceptance. For _closure_.

"Marx?" Kirby would whisper, like music to his ears. He'd slowly approach him, torturing him but in _oh_ such a pleasuring way. "...Wh...What's with your...?"

He wouldn't get another chance like this. Not again. Never again.

He'd pull him forward, and in a swift, deft movement, would close the gap between their—

T-Too fast... He was going to fast!

Marx slipped sand fell, rolling and rolling down a hill that, due to running straight down its incline, was most likely responsible for the sudden speed increase and subsequent loss of control. He continued barreling down the hillside, bumping and colliding into the occasional pebble and debris as he went, before finally coming to a halt at the bottom of the valley.

 _Wha—? What was that? What happened?_

He couldn't regain any semblance of composure. He was stuck on the ground.

...

Looking beside him, it would seem as though Kirby had suffered a similar fate, as he too was lying on the ground, a bit scratched up here and there, but ultimately he still looked and sounded quite happy about the whole experience.

 _...Oh no._

 _It happened again, didn't it..._

Marx, however, had by now more than lost his appetite for the little game they played. He was now flaming hot in the face, his brief daydream being the culprit. Such occurrences, unfortunately, weren't all that uncommon. Ever since he had agreed to join in on the adventure that culminated into the Star Allies all teaming up together, these sorts of lapses out of reality and into the realm of fantasy had been tormenting his poor soul. They weren't all too common, but when they did happen, it was next to impossible to focus on much of anything else.

 _Why?? WHY?? Why do I keep_ thinking _these things??_ he scolded in his mind.

"Th...That was fun." Kirby spoke up.

Marx froze. _Please no_...

He groaned as he got up, stretching and all. "That was really crazy, right, poyo?"

Then he went silent. _Please PLEASE no_...

"Why do you look like a raspberry?" Kirby asked

"D-Don't look at me!" Marx sputtered aloud.

Kirby looked puzzled by the response. "Why not? What's the matter?"

"I...I feel _weird_. And w- _wrong_."

 _So_ SO _wrong_...

 _What's happening to me_...?

Why _is this happening to m_ e...?

 _Help me..._

 _Help me Kirby..._

 _I need your help..._

 _I need you_...

 _I'm_ begging _you..._

 _Kirby..._

 _Take me._

 _Take me and make me yours_.

"..." Kirby was completely still.

"Kirby..." Marx panted. He looked like — _felt like_ — he was on the brink of dying of _something_ heat related. "P-Please..."

He could feel the beads of sweat rolling down his body. The heat emanating from his core.

 _The warmth..._

 _It's too hot!_

 _It's too hot!_

 _I can't take it!_

"...Oh." Kirby muttered.

 _K-Kirby..._

 _Kirby..._

 _Kirby?_

 _Why...Why do you_...

Why did he look so... _deflated_ , all of a sudden? His aura, his childlike passion, his _optimism_...it was gone...

And in its place was...guilt. A deep sense of guilt. Of dread. A heavy, crushing weight seemed to have appeared upon the pink puffball's shoulders.

The warmth was gone.

In its place was the cold. Bitter, deathly cold.

Whilst the jester started to freeze, Kirby just stood there. Conflicted. Indecisive. He was trying to figure out what to do. What to say. What could he say? The words were on the tip of his tongue, but he couldn't bring himself to say them. He scratched himself nervously.

 _He'll hate us once we tell him...won't he?_

Kirby gulped. "M...Marx?" he quietly muttered.

Marx blinked as his eyes turned to face Kirby. It hurt. Why was it so painful just to move his eyes?

"Yes, Kirby?" he spoke faintly. Looking at him more closely, it seemed as though Marx wasn't the only one in pain. His eyes looked dull, hurt, tired, and blurred. Perhaps that last thing was just his perspective. Everything looked blurry. It hurt just to focus on anything.

"I-I..." Kirby continued to struggle.

 _You what?_

 _Please, It's hurting him_...

 _Just say something!_

 _I...I_...

 _Kirby..._

 _I can't... I can't say it_.

"I'm...sorry..."

Kirby was, by now, in tears. He looked so utterly defeated and...embarrassed. His stubs covered his face in shame, crying to himself.

"I'm sorry, poy—"

"Huh...? Wha—?" Marx was now completely stumped. "Kirby, wh...what're you on about?"

"I'm sorry..." he continued to sob. "Poyo didn't think it would hurt this much..."

Any trace of longing or exhaustion Marx had from earlier vanished as he continued to stare at the child. Right now, all of his problems might as well have evaporated in an instant. Kirby. Kirby was what mattered. Kirby was in pain. _He needs more help than I do_.

Marx wasn't going to let another one of his far-flung, lust-driven dreams intrude on the fact that, right now, his best friend was in distress. The reasons for it, he didn't know, but it didn't matter. Nothing else mattered.

He got up from the grass and carefully, cautiously, approached the puffball. He wasn't really sure what to do, but maybe...something like _this_ would help?

Kirby gasped. He was suddenly being clutched onto. He uncovered and wiped his eyes, and they widened as he softly gasped the sight.

Marx was _hugging_ him.

His sobbing started to slow as the two once again looked into the other's eyes.

"I...Um, excuse me." Marx shuffled in place. "It's been a while since I've done this sort of thing."

The purple jester was in a bit of an odd position, his arms were somewhat stiff, and both of them were clearly somewhat uncomfortable. It was...awkward. Weird.

And Kirby _loved_ it. Once Marx saw the stars in his eyes, he at last sighed in the relief of knowing that he had succeeded.

The two of them just stood there for what felt like hours, both wanting to absorb as much of it as they could, neither wanting to put an end to this tiny slice of paradise. They just stood there in the valley, smiling, content with each other's company. Nothing else mattered.

In that moment of solace, Marx started to think. He started to think back on everything. Everything regarding their relationship. Everything that had taken place between them so far. How much pain and trauma both of them had endured. How much emotional turmoil they had gone through, together, separate, or inflicted on by the other. How much they made the other happy, confident, giddy, blissful. All of it culminating to this. This singular moment.

Sure, he had thought of something along the same lines in the past, right after they had taken off on the seminal catastrophe that was their final adventure before...um, let's not get into that.

He had thought similarly when he brought himself to kiss the Star Warrior as they floated out in space above Popstar's atmosphere. Nothing else could get better than this, he thought back then. How nieve.

Because, strangely, despite his utmost restraint, _this_ moment felt _so_ much better. Much more grandiose and meaningful than a final lust-driven act as his internal thirst for power and vengeance reached its peak.

A thought entered into the jester's mind. A sudden realization.

When he was thinking about going up to hug his best friend, he had thought of Kirby as _his best friend_.

He might never have the stomach or the strength to give in and attempt a romantic relationship with him ever again. It would just bring up too many bad memories (and to be honest, Kirby probably knows that, too). But _this_? This was enough. Just the perfect amount of intimacy to really leave a mark.

Screw the Sun and Moon Incident. Nothing could possibly get better than _this_. And he couldn't have asked for it to be any other way.

He brought his attention back to Kirby, still in the same position in his arms. He was purring. The jester chuckled. He couldn't _not_ be cute to save his life, now could he?

He then noticed that he had been rubbing one of his hands on Kirby's back. Okay, maybe that was a bit _too_ intimate.

Nah. Forget it. Who cares!

Next he found a small bubble, shrinking and expanding at a slow pace, coming from Kirby's... _nose_? Did he have one? Okay, he _really_ needs to figure out _what_ Kirby is. Wherever it originated from, it was pretty clear what it signified; Kirby was asleep, softly snoring in a peaceful slumber. He probably should have known; his eyes were closed after all.

He stopped rubbing the Star Warrior. The instant he stopped, the bubble popped, and Kirby's eyes slowly squirmed open.

"Hello." Marx whispered.

"~Hi..." Kirby softly sang.

"You doing better?" he asked.

"Yea."

He looked so sweet. Surely, this could last _just_ a bit longer...

Looking up, however, put a dampener on that wish. The sun was setting in the distance. "I guess I should get going...?" Marx said.

"...I guess so..." Kirby sighed.

Marx slowly broke their embrace, letting Kirby find his footing before finally letting go. "That was quite the adventure, wasn't it?"

"Uh huh..."

"...I-I—" he started. He didn't know how to finish. _Such a shame I have to leave. He looks so...lonely.._.

"..."

"See you around, then..." It took a lot of willpower to bring himself to turn away, before he at last started heading off.

"Poy...!" Kirby gasped. "W-wait!"

Marx stopped in his tracks, eagerly turning back around. "What's up?"

"Wh...Where will you go...?"

"..." He has a point. Where _would_ he go? Back to the Fringes? It wasn't like he had a residence to return to anything. He had been living essentially the same as before he had met Kirby; on the street, under the cover of some foliage, up in a tree — he was a freelancer and, sure, he might have hated it at first, but he ultimately didn't care too much about it. After all, what else _could_ he do? He couldn't just ask to reside at Kirby's place again. Could he...?

 _Maybe just this once_...?

"Marx...I was thinking..." the puffball started.

Marx's eyes widened. _He isn't_ — _Did he just_ —

"If poyo aren't going anywhere, then...maybe you could—"

"Yes." he quickly responded.

Kirby blinked. "...You sure?"

"More than ever."

At long last, Kirby smiled. Marx liked it when he smiled. _Why, oh why do you tempt me so?_

And so the two of them headed off into the aforementioned sunset. They had each other. Nothing else mattered. Secretly, both were content in the knowledge that their particular fantasies would get to last just a bit longer. However, the foundation of which one of them was started was quite unstable, and it would take but a slight nudge toward the abyss for the delusion to collapse and for their friendship to be doomed.

One was innocent in their ambitions. The other was knowingly, yet ignorantly, playing a dangerous game upon the knife's edge, and once they fall, the consequences would far exceed their own blood.

And in this golden hour, Void had at last found the window to seize their opportunity. This time there would be no interrupting their return. Vengeance would at last be theirs.

They couldn't have planned it out any better.

 ** _To be continued_**


End file.
